This and Everything
by et2brute
Summary: SasuNaru. LimeRrated sex. Angst.
1. this and everything

This and Everything  
h. tsuki

Notes.  
This was inspired by Gelfling's _Choosing Who_ which was ridiculously amazing, the song _Hey Jealousy_ by the Gin Blossoms, and my own shitty mood and self-loathing at the moment.

I am in an unhappy mood and reading sad fanfic. I am disappointed with where the manga _Naruto_ is heading because, frankly, I cannot see Naruto and Sasuke ever being together again. And not even together in a sexual way or anything; first and foremost they are friends. They have bonds and all of that, and it makes me sick to think that even though Sasuke loves Naruto more than he hates his brother, the hate is still stronger because it was there first; and how, just because we can't control the _order_ of the things in our lives, we can't control their worth. Anyway, this is all irrelevant; but I believe it is the worst thing a person can do, to lie to himself just because he is more familiar with what he _thought_ was the truth than what _is._

And now you can read this fic, and I'm sure it will be hideously depressing because I am at the moment.

* * *

We never live up to our expectations.

* * *

Well, tell me, do you think it'd be all right  
if I could just crash here tonight?  
You can see I'm in no shape for driving,  
and anyway, I've got no place to go.  
And you know, it might not be that bad,  
you were the best I'd ever had.  
If I hadn't blown the whole thing years ago, I might not be alone... 

_Hey Jealousy_, the Gin Blossoms

* * *

Naruto is not a heavy sleeper, unlike Lee who exhausts his body to the point of sweet oblivion and does not have the sensitive chakra control to feel his surroundings. It is a surprise, actually, that so accomplished a ninja could sleep through a thunder storm; it is a surprise, as well, that Naruto can't. He abuses his body in much the same fashion, if not to the same extreme, and while one would expect him to be equally as oblivious, he isn't.

He hears everything, actually; and if he couldn't, he would have missed the faint knock on the door to his apartment. But he would've noticed the presence just outside anyway, weak and battered though it seemed.

But he'd recognize him anywhere.

He gets out of bed, trying adjust his pajamas which are rumpled from a fitful rest. Half of him wants to know why now, after all this time; why at night, when he's half asleep and sick in the pit of his stomach and just fucking _unprepared _for this shit; it's too soon after his loss—his _failure—_to deal with this now. The bond that connects them so strongly, the bond that Naruto is trying with all his might to hang onto—_he_'s the one who is cutting at it with every ounce, every chance meeting and grain of strength, and it's all Naruto can do. It's starting to unravel, though, and he knows they both sense it.

He doesn't know what to do, and he's standing in front of the door indecisively. He thinks he wants this more than anything, but he still hates himself for it.

So he opens the door.

At first he doesn't see anything. It's oppressively dark outside, though that could just be the dark closing around his heart at the sight of Sasuke in a heap at his feet, as soon as he looks down.

Dark hair against pale cheeks and dark lashes that ring closed eyes and dark splotches—stains—patches—of copper-penny-red all over his clothes.

Naruto screams; it only comes out as a soft catch in his throat, but it is deafening in the silence.

He stands there weakly, angrily, helplessly—and then pitches forward without thinking about it anymore and pulls the crumpled boy into his arms and his apartment.

He is cold, and in retrospect Naruto probably shouldn't have stood there, dumbfounded; but what could he have done?

So they stumble together through the house, and Naruto is shaking—his hands are shaking, and his arms, and something in his chest is fluttering wildly and sinking fast and faster into his guts and twisting them around; it is anxious and confused and utterly at a loss.

Sasuke's eyes open only partway and his mouth forms something inaudible that Naruto thinks he hears anyway.

It is the bathroom they stop in, and when he hits the lights and surveys the damage he doesn't gasp; he just exhales slowly, and the black of the Uchiha and the red is so thick and stark and consuming against the white tile and white walls and toilet where Sasuke fumbles away and falls already doubled-over and unceremoniously vomits. He's wiping his mouth on a tattered sleeve and looking at Naruto with eyes that are weak and challenging at the same time and seem to say everything without betraying anything.

Naruto hates this because Sasuke just expects him to know; and even though he can read people's hearts flawlessly, Sasuke has never once opened his. Naruto can't read a book when it is bound so tightly shut, and Sasuke can't realize this.

But all the same, those eyes—dark and expressionless and piercing, hard beneath the long, dirty spikes of black that razor down in front of them—are challenging, endlessly so, because he knows Naruto will forgive him always, unconditionally.

Even for this; even for everything.

So Naruto kneels down and peels off the shirt and slowly, slowly goes over the cuts and gashes and bruises, feels for broken bones, clinically studies to the best of his knowledge—whatever he's learned from Sakura. And he realizes something, something stupid and ridiculous and so relevant that he can't keep from asking, "Why didn't you go to Sakura-_chan_." But it isn't so much a question because he doesn't expect an answer; and he doesn't get one, not in so many words.

There is something like a shrug, but Sasuke's shoulder is dislocated so really all he does is pull his gaze from the lower half of Naruto's face and look to the side.

So he drags out the disinfectant, but he has to reach for it because now that they are on the floor next to each other, thighs touching just enough for both to notice and Naruto's hand on his arm, he doesn't want to break the contact. It might be over as soon as he lets go.

He doesn't know where to begin. Sasuke is riddled with wounds ranging from the light ones that are generally insignificant but bleed a lot—all over his face and head—to the more pronounced ones that inspire at least some kind of sick shock: deep cuts along his abdomen and thighs, a burn on his back that is uneven so that some parts are simply heated red and one or two patches are charred black.

He sighs and strips Sasuke down the rest of the way; he has never seemed so small before, or so fierce. He is guarded and still silent, but eventually gives it up because everything hurts and his face falls and his eyes close and his head bows so that his bangs obscure his expression and Naruto lifts him into the tub. He runs the water lukewarm until Sasuke is shivering more; he gradually increases the heat.

Soap first, soap and disinfectant and a pair of tweezers to pull out the bits of twigs and leaves, a nasty odd piece of shrapnel that Naruto doesn't want to think to closely on, bits of fiber from his clothing that melted into his skin from the burns.

Throughout the process they are silent; there is only the sound of the water, and even that dies away when the Uchiha is still. For his part, he doesn't so much as whimper; there are times when the skin around his eyes tightens into an almost-wince, but other than that there is nothing. Sasuke might not even be there, in Naruto's apartment, naked in Naruto's bathtub with Naruto's hands on him; Naruto might not even exist.

But then again, men rarely have the capacity to watch their god as he heals them.

He is still nervous, his hands are still shaking, and he hopes that Sasuke doesn't notice whenever he fumbles the tweezers or touches him unnecessarily—he keeps fingers on his shoulder, or his hand on a rib or a side, or resting on his clavicle; whenever he reaches for something, he ends up groping blindly for it because his eyes will not leave Sasuke. Even if he were to put an effort into it, Naruto doesn't quite believe he would be able to break the contact.

It is after the fifth time that Naruto's hand has come within inches of the alcohol swabs and missed that Sasuke's eyes focus on him and he sighs softly; the exhalation may well be an admission of weakness, and possibly gratitude; an allowance that he is in pain, and that Naruto is relieving it. He gives up and turns fully to the dark, bleeding thing before him, anxious, but glad to have both hands on him again even though his eyes did not once slide away. He says, quietly, "Sasuke—" and it's a question, and maybe a breeching of terms because he's breaking the silence.

Sasuke interrupts him with his expression. Naruto expects a sneer or a smirk—but he remembers the last time he saw Sasuke, and recalls the emotionless mask that his face had become, and so expects that.

But it is neither; Sasuke only looks tired. In the way he only ever said the blond's name when he fully expected that one of them was about to die—but all of that is past now, anyway, and irrelevant, even if it reminds him of everything—he says, "Naruto, I'm not going to disappear." And the Uchiha bows his head a little, visibly exhausted, and the water is dirty brown from the mess he made of his escape—because what else could it have been, and Naruto's heart doesn't want to believe it, even if it's likely, because it is what he wants, that Sasuke would willingly...—and red from the blood, of course. "You can let go of me." And he turns his head again.

Naruto takes his time releasing his teammate; his former teammate, rather. He doesn't even know what they are now—they can't be enemies, and he wonders if they will ever fall back into being rivals again. Because even if Naruto would never hold it over his head, he knows Sasuke would forever hold over himself that _he_ was the one who left; that _he_ was the one who had to be 'rescued', even when he wouldn't come.

But all Naruto can think about is doubling over and sobbing and Sakura's sad, far-away eyes with tears much quieter than his own.

Sasuke is saying, "The water is getting cold. I think I can get out now."

"Yeah—okay." And he pulls a towel off the crooked bar and helps Sasuke into a standing position before wrapping him in it. It's difficult, and before he's done he is half-soaked himself from Sasuke's sleek wet body against his own, and with a steadying arm around his shoulders it is difficult to maneuver. Instead the paler boy ends up leaning into him to free up Naruto's hands and his face is warm and feverish against the smooth neck that is tight from an hour of suppressing whatever it is that he can't let loose—not yet, anyway, not until Sasuke is sleeping.

He towels him off gently and bandages him up and he hopes to God that there weren't any broken bones. He is pretty sure—he has some kind of idea, being a ninja, but one never knows. Sasuke only shakes his head when he asks him if there's the possibility, so Naruto can only believe that it'll be okay.

When he forces the shoulder back into place, there is only a soft crunchpop of relocation and a gasp through clenched teeth that is more of a hiss than anything else.

"Uh—I have some clothes, if you want, they might be a little baggy on you but... um."

Sasuke is pulling away from him, slowly but insistently, and even though he's unconcerned with his nudity, Naruto is noticing—now that the emergency has waned—the terrible grace in the pale limbs and long feet and fingers, the damp blotch of feathery midnight-on-black that sets his hair out from the dark background, the curve of his spine as he leans into the bed and braces himself and looks expectantly over his shoulder at Naruto.

He realizes he's been watching, when he should be helping; he rushes over and turns back the sheets and carefully guides Sasuke's body beneath the covers. "Okay," he says, and sits on the bed. Sasuke is turned away from him, breathing slowly and deeply, and Naruto's hands fist in the sheets.

There is a moment where he tries to regroup; as a ninja one should always review the facts and check them and recheck them; weigh observations against knowledge and tailor it into as accurate a picture of the truth as possible. But he is stuck on the fact that Sasuke is in his house—in his bed, in Konoha at all.

Sasuke is in Konoha. He is in my room. I am looking at Sasuke.

Sasuke says, "When was the last time you washed these sheets?"

This is easy; this is falling back into habits, into roles, and he can deal with this base reversion. "I'm the only one that lives here, jerk. I don't remember—" he is about to say 'inviting you' but he can't because he's sure it's against the rules or something, to reference his appearance; Sasuke hasn't volunteered any information, and they can't touch that yet until he does. Maybe he'll never know what happened, but at least Sasuke is here.

So he finishes, lamely, "your sleeping bag ever smelling like daisies after a couple of week-long missions."

But instead of another retort, there is only his soft, humorless laugh that is more self-deprecating than anything. "No, it just smells like you, Naruto." He sounds half-asleep when he says it, tired and angry with himself. It's not even consoling, only a statement of fact because Sasuke doesn't apologize for anything. And even if he felt sorry, he wouldn't say it.

Naruto sits on the bed for fifteen minutes or so, staring at the dark where Sasuke is laying, and he doesn't know what to do with himself. He supposes he should go sleep on the couch, but half of him wants to stay in here to make sure Sasuke doesn't leave; so he stands to look around for something to arrange into satisfactory bedding, with every intention to sleep on the floor, so that if Sasuke so much gets up to take a piss he won't be able to help stepping on Naruto, especially in his current physical state—he'd probably need help.

This makes Naruto blush hotly for reasons he can't fully understand and doesn't want to contemplate, and as he's standing a thin, wiry hand shoots out and wraps iron-like around his wrist and tugs him down gingerly. "Where are you going?"

"Ah, Sasuke—I thought you were sleeping. Sorry if I woke you up, I was going to get some blankets to sleep on the—"

"You're sleeping here, idiot." And releases him like it's the end of the conversation. But he mutters something like, 'It's your bed,' or 'your place' or something to that effect, and then there is an unspoken thing that passes between them, said in the heavy slant of his shoulders that Naruto slowly understands as Sasuke saying, 'you won't be able to sleep if you're up watching me,' and 'you'll know if I try to leave if you're next to me. Even though I won't.'

He is getting that sick feeling in his stomach again, not that it has left—but it is definitely more pronounced now, or he is more aware of it or something, but he doesn't know what to do; he wants something so much, so badly, that it is making him sick and he can't even think of what it is.

It's almost like when he was little, when he was alone; the heavy weight on him when all the other kids went off with their parents and he stood dejectedly by the swing set, smiling to lock his tears down.

Sasuke prompts, "Naruto," and makes his decision for him, or maybe just hurries it along because, ultimately, he would have crawled in next to the broken, naked, beautiful thing in his bed anyway like he is doing now.

Moves in close, and the thick black hair is an inch away from his nose.

Slowly, slowly, Sasuke shifts onto his back. He exhales through his clenched teeth and turns again, so that he is on his side facing Naruto and Naruto is looking into the dark eyes that are ringed and deep-set from excessive—everything, really; training and fighting and battle wounds, the whole day without food, which is what Naruto suspects, and longer without sleep. From life, really—life made his eyes dark like that, and distant, and closed. But evidently Sasuke doesn't appreciate this appraisal, or he really is tired and just wants Naruto to sleep so that he can.

He leans his face into the crook of his neck and sighs against the flesh there; Naruto swallows, fingers flexing, pulse jolting just hard enough for him to notice, and to see that he isn't sick to his stomach so much as sick to his heart, now.

He tries to relax.

Sasuke's hand crawls over to his wrist and takes it, and he exhales once more and is gone.

After a few minutes, sure that he is sleeping fully now, Naruto settles around the pale darkness that has curled into him and they do not move all until morning.

* * *

And even if we do meet our goals, they end and leave us empty.

* * *

Sasuke wakes up alone and his eyes are partway open, half-squinted at the sun filtering in and falling on his face. He stretches out his arms and the bed isn't warm beside him; Naruto has been gone from him for awhile.

He sits up slowly and catches the painful yelp before it escapes his lips and slowly concentrates and breathing without passing out from the pain. His ribs are aching in the worst way, but they are probably only cracked.

He can't favor them too much, however, as his entire body is sore. But he tries to get out of bed anyway.

He pauses with one leg on the floor because the door—which was half ajar to begin with, he'd heard the footsteps moments before—opens and Naruto walks in and his eyes get big enough that he can see the blue vividly and his voice is loud and worried. He is saying sharply, "Sasuke, lay back down! You're lucky it's me and not..." He stops because he isn't sure where Sasuke stands yet; whether they are bringing Sakura back into this; whether it is only, for now, the two of them.

But Sasuke says, "Death by abuse from her or negligence by you—either way I lose," and he is trying to smile but it hurts too much and some bruises have freshly settled around his face, his cheeks and his left eye.

Naruto sets down the tray that Sasuke has only just noticed him carrying and slowly eases him up against the headboard.

"Breakfast," he says proudly and Sasuke almost hopes—

But no, it is ramen.

He purses his lips and stares it down; then he meets the blond's eyes.

They are too hopeful to be crushed by the obvious argument that sodium and buckwheat do not constitute as vitamins; that he is very much in need of mending, and do you have any vegetables, please.

He sighs and eats the noodles wordlessly.

Naruto is only grinning, oblivious; Sasuke is only momentarily thrown at how quickly he's come to terms. He wonders how Naruto, who has no reason to trust anyone, to be close to anyone, does.

And then he wonders, their situations reversed, could he have done the same? He doesn't like to think that he wouldn't—but then, he has always been more prudent when it came to matters of the heart.

At least, this is what he believes; but he is drinking down the rest of the broth anyway, and feels better for it, despite the lack of nutritional value. And Naruto watches all the while.

The first week is the hardest. It is almost the most difficult thing Naruto has to do all day, leaving in the morning while Sasuke could leave, too, at any time; it interrupts his missions, clouds his mind when he should be paying attention. Kakashi has twice now caught the stray kunai that Naruto missed, and would have slit his throat or gutted him, respectively. But Naruto only seems to phase from aloof disinterest to nervous, anxious introspection; Sakura notices the change and worries, but doesn't say too much—Sai notices and says less, but watches him carefully.

In the end it is Kakashi who says, "Naruto, take a break."

He looks up, startled. He stops, because everyone else has, and they are next to a clearing and the sunlight is dappled across the mask through the leaves. "A week or so. We don't have any difficult missions for a while—layman's work. Take a week off." Kakashi smiles lightheartedly—his other mask.

Naruto bites his lip because he's sure that none of the hokage ever took time off. But Kakashi insists, and Sakura puts her soft hand on his forearm and says, "Naruto, are you alright?" She looks pensive; she worries, because she thinks she understands—she misses Sasuke, too. And it was almost too much, seeing him and losing him at once.

Naruto hasn't told her yet. He smiles and he says, "I'm fine, Sakura-_chan_!" and darts off through the trees. His heart is pounding so hard that he's afraid he might go into cardiac arrest; he's nervous, and afraid, and even though he only left four or five hours ago—it was early and is nearing eleven now—he's afraid that Sasuke would have left, even if he said he wouldn't.

_I'm not going to disappear_.

He lands hard outside the door and fumbles with the key and all but bursts into the room.

Sasuke is on the couch, tossing kunai at the pockmarked target on the wall. He is looking at Naruto before he enters the room.

"I—oh, hey Sasuke. Um, I thought I'd—" He's breathing hard and his hands are on his knees. He ran the whole way here, as fast as he could. He doesn't even bother to finish his weak excuse.

Sasuke stands slowly, awkwardly; he's wearing an old pair of sweats and a blue t-shirt, and the sight of him in his clothes is jarring; it almost distracts him from remember that Sasuke shouldn't be moving around, much less throwing kunai.

"Ugh, you idiot—" but he says it softly, "that's gotta hurt your shoulder. And you'll reopen some of the..."

Sasuke wavers slightly and his eyes fall as he winces; Naruto is instantly in front of him again, with his hands on his shoulders, careful, careful; and he lowers Sasuke onto the couch.

"So, um," he sits down next to him, a careful distance a way—not too close, but close enough to grab him if he tries to bolt, even if this is unlikely; he is still Sasuke, however, and all Sasuke has done up to now is save Naruto and then leave him. "Kakashi-_sensei_ said that I should take a week off. So, I'll be around until you get a little better, maybe. A week should be alright, yeah?" And he grins a little, "I'll nurse you back to health—"

"Naruto."

He looks up, momentarily jarred because Sasuke has hardly been speaking.

"Did you...?" he pauses, purses his lips.

"No, Sasuke. I didn't tell them, they don't know. Sakura's really worried, though—maybe you should..."

"No."

Naruto looks at him and sighs softly. But then he sees that Sasuke looks guilty and turns his eyes way.

"She doesn't hate you," he says quietly. "Really, she doesn't." And he smiles weakly, and sadly. "She just misses you a lot—I mean, when we... found you, after so long, and you..."

_Said those terrible things to us._

"...left again..."

_Like it didn't even matter_.

"She was just sad, is all. We both were."

He gives the smile that is painful to look at because he is trying to hard to make it real—when really he is very unhappy. He was never any good at hiding his feelings.

Maybe if Sasuke wasn't, this wouldn't have been so painful.

It is the day after next that Sasuke is stretching lightly on the floor and talks Naruto into going to the training yard. It doesn't take much because Naruto is still nervous, is still anxious, is still afraid that Sasuke isn't really here; and because there is affirmation from anyone else, Sasuke could very well be in his head, and keeping himself a secret is just a cover so that no one says, "Sasuke isn't here, Naruto..." or worse, look at him with pity because they believe they understand what loss is; everyone who has ever had a family has any idea of what it would be like to have nothing and then something, and that would be more than anything; and then it is gone away from you. It leaves, and you can't get it back—but. Naruto really hopes this isn't a hallucination. But then he thinks that, maybe if it is, it would still be better than Sasuke not being here at all.

He agrees and Sasuke forms a seal slowly but surely, not a digit out of place, and the _henge_ is flawless. Naruto looks himself up and down, and if it weren't for the blank expression anyone would mistake Sasuke, and easily. Naruto calls up the _kage bunshin_ and they are five Naruto darting through Konoha, almost an echo of old times, and even though they are all clones Naruto can see the expression on the one that isn't his, and stays close to him the entire time, but maybe Sasuke stays close to Naruto, too.

They get there and no one is really around—far off he can just make out Hinata and Neji, and he is being hard on her, has been ever since they started training together, but her secret is that she has beaten him twice—sometimes she can get through his guard, but they have to be careful anyway and Neji's secret is that he goes easy on her when he doesn't mean to.

But it is noon, almost, and she has to get back to the main house. Neji leaves, to walk her home, and they see Naruto and his clones and she says sweetly, slowly, and with a stutter, "Na-naruto-_kun_, are you... are you going to spar with your clones today?"

"Yeah," he says and smiles broadly, and Neji looks at him silently, reading the falsness of it. But Hinata is pressing her forefingers together and blushing and there are a few beads of sweat on her brow from nerves, but Neji hopes it is sparring because she has been more confident lately. He touches her elbow and bows his head to Naruto, always so formal, but he is speaking to Hinata and simply says her name with the high honorific.

"Aw, Neji, lighten up," Naruto says and claps him on the shoulder and Neji smiles just a little bit, just a shadow. Hinata bows, or makes to, but Naruto catches her on the shoulder too and nods his head. Hinata almost faints and Neji leads her away.

And the training ground is empty and Naruto turns around and the clones are lazing about, but Sasuke is standing in the middle of them, dark and drastic and Naruto's heart flutters in his throat.

"She's improved," he says quietly, appraisingly.

"Hinata-_chan_? Yeah, now that Neji isn't being such a prick... I think, once he gets past his destiny complex, he actually really likes her." And he looks at Sasuke. "After all, you can't help how you're born, right?" Smiling, and it hurts again.

Sasuke barely gives a nod; it is a mere acknowledgment, as he is scanning the area for witnesses—as his very existence is probably a crime, now. So the boys drift back into the cover of the trees, and from there they begin.

It is unceremonious, it has no prelude except for their lives up to this point and Naruto goes from smiling and flexing his fingers, goes from the anxious adolescent to something fiercer and more primal and he punches Sasuke in the face as hard as he can.

There is a moment of stunned silence because he hadn't blocked the move, or dodged, and suddenly Naruto is working something through his head, is second-guessing himself, is worrying that maybe he hass this all wrong—and Sasuke turns his head back, studies him, and then launches into something that, even later, was still undefinable.

They hit each other. Naruto didn't hit hard after the initial crack against his jaw, and Sasuke wavered only slightly from his injuries, but it is still two and a half hours before they stop and breathe.

Naruto has bruises and cuts that will be gone in the morning and Sasuke has a few light scrapes that will last longer. This angers him a little, and it shows. He stretches his muscles, sore from the strain after such inactivity, and he walks over to Naruto where the _bijuu_ is leaning against a tree with his orange and black jacket on the floor, only in his dark t-shirt and sweats now.

"Alright, Sasuke?" he says and he's smiling, and it's real. But Sasuke shakes his head curtly; these silences of his aren't so frustrating or even jarring, because Naruto can understand him most times, but then it does make him wonder if, all his time with Orochimaru he never said anything; or maybe he did, and it's just different, now, when there are no business terms, only matters of the heart that Sasuke has never been good at dealing with.

But he slams his fist into the bark near Naruto's head. He says quietly, not meeting his eyes, "I won't break." His fingers clench tighter and it's practically audible, the way he grits his teeth, and then his arm falls.

Naruto looks at him with some concern, and then sighs softly and is smiling again, eyes and all. "I know, Sasuke, it's just that—"

The eyes cut up again and they flare once, briefly, but not with the _sharingan_.

But Naruto holds his ground.

"I don't want to hurt you."

And suddenly something has changed, because this has never been spoken between the two of them before. It is always, when one is saving the other, a claim of unintent; brushed off, so that they would not feel as though they had owed each other anything. They have never talked about Haku, not once, or Sasuke's body moving of its own accord to sacrifice his life for Naruto's, or Naruto losing his mind when he thought Sasuke had died.

Sasuke's expression crumples minutely, and he's suddenly the child sitting on the docks that Naruto would watch out of the corner of his eye on the way to his empty apartment after classes.

And Naruto is suddenly anxious again and raises his hands to put them on Sasuke's shoulders, but he doesn't know what to do with them; he wants to take a hold of him, wants to be sure that he won't disappear—wants to banish whatever it is that Sasuke is hating himself for because, as far as Naruto is concerned, they should be on equal footing when it comes to each other. Naruto doesn't hate himself; it is an unfair handicap, though he isn't sure who is at the disadvantage.

And then Sakura is saying, "Oi, Naruto, I thought you were taking the week off.."

He spins, looks over his shoulder; a stab of panic that Sasuke is gone, but of relief that Sakura has not appeared to see him.

"Can't fall behind on my training," he says inexpertly, scratching the back of his head. "You know how it is."

She seems determined about something, but also withdrawn; as though there is a topic she is not sure how to broach, and finally she settles on, "Want to go get ramen?"

He eyes her suspiciously. "You buying?"

She smiles and he is struck once again that she really is so pretty; he thinks so, even if Sasuke never did.

And he remembers, even as she's saying, "Just this once."

So he shakes his head and apologizes and she's confused for a moment. "I really do need to train, Sakura-_chan_."

She holds one arm with the other, looking around at the scuffles in the dirt and the scars on the trees. "Shadow clones?"

"Yeah." He looks around complacently.

Sakura smiles and Naruto wonders why she's so worried. "You know—you can spar with me any time. Sai, too—I'm sure he wouldn't mind at all, and he's pretty strong, so..."

"Sakura-_chan_," Naruto says softly and takes a step closer. "what's wrong?"

That's all it really takes and she grabs his hand. "We're all worried. You took it so hard, seeing his... I mean, losing him, again, especially after trying to hard..." She take a deep, shaky breathe. "Naruto, I'm upset too but you..." She searches his eyes and smiles as best she can. "I'm worried about you."

His eyes are wide through this exchange, and as she finishes he is smiling again. She tries, as well, but it is a faltering thing because her lips are twitching down.

"I've just been a little tired lately," he says and squeezes her hand. "I have a lot on my mind. And Fuzzy Brows always says that 'there is nothing a rigorous training cannot cure', so I guess I'm just trying to work it out of my system."

She nods, seems to accept this. She smiles and sticks out her tongue a little, like she used to when she was younger and had made a mistake. "Okay. Don't be too hard on yourself—" she lightly traces a bruise on his cheek. She laughs softly at the implication; for what else is _kage bunshin_ training but the continual abuse of yourself by yourself?

And she leaves, but before she has gone four steps she has half-turned, even as he is walking away, and says, "Lunch tomorrow, Naruto! I'll buy, but only this once."

He smiles at her and nods, and she realizes something about him; but it is gone as soon as he's turned away and she leaves with a lighter heart.

* * *

Sometimes winning is the same as losing.

* * *

Once they get back to bed and sleep for the night, Naruto has a nightmare that he can't remember and he wakes already sitting up and Sasuke's hand, iron-grip and wiry fingers, is tight around his wrist. He is gazing at him with dark eyes and Naruto looks at him, sleep and sorrow both etched on his face and then he looks at his hands on his lap.

Sasuke leans up and hisses softly through his teeth at the action because his ribs are still healing.

Naruto runs his hand back through his hair and says, "I think I just dreamed of you dying." He says it in an altogether bemused way, quiet and kind of nervous, too. "You—your body was..."

But Sasuke has cut him off.

This is when they kiss.

The grip on his wrist has become insistent and Sasuke has crawled onto him beneath the covers and he seems so small in Naruto's oversized pajamas.

He's fumbling with the shirt now, one handed and still mouth to mouth, and it is and unyielding kiss, a dominating one, but it seems to Naruto that this isn't what he's trying to get a hold of.

He eases him back and carefully slides his hands up the slender, pale torso, pushing the shirt up with it. And Sasuke's hands are already slipping around the waist band of Naruto's sweats, because he didn't wear a shirt to bed.

There is something distinctly raw about Sasuke's eyes, now, when Naruto chances to catch them; but it's when he's working Sasuke out of the baggy pants that he mumbles against the hard slant of his mouth, "Hey, I was looking for your clothes earlier, do you know—" but the vowel in the last word is drawn out into a moan because Sasuke has bitten into his lip.

Maybe he does get distracted, but he keeps forgetting the wash the blood out and attempt to salvage the blacks, because Sasuke would feel more comfortable in his own clothes.

This all dissipates with a surge of red rises behind Naruto's vision because Sasuke is pressing down into him, fingers on his chest, spreading out and sliding around and down and his nails are doing terrible things to the grooves in his stomach.

He is sure there will be welts, but they will be gone in the morning; but that reminds him to be extra careful with Sasuke, whose chakra is not sentient and cannot heal him so unconsciously.

There is something hurried about Sasuke that Naruto doesn't understand; he doesn't understand any of this, really, except the mutual need, but he would prefer to take this slowly because he doesn't want to be careless.

He shifts Sasuke off of him and pushes himself up on one elbow, but Sasuke immediately pulls his body beneath and Naruto is fully aware of the hot throbbing against his thigh and the solid heat of Sasuke laid out under him. Sasuke himself is flushed and his eyes are piercing and upset, maybe angry, maybe frustrated, maybe needy.

Naruto doesn't move and Sasuke digs his fingers into the bulky upper arms. His legs bend, pull back so his knees are almost to his chest and his calves have trapped Naruto around the waist and are pressing him down. Naruto closes his eyes, inhales slowly; clean sheets because he'd changed them the day before yesterday, the acrid fire-ash that Sasuke always seemed to carry with him, sweat, the salt of warm bodies; he can feel the tight ring of muscle just ahead, and when he pushes into it, even just experimentally, Sasuke gasps. He stops.

Sasuke tightens his legs and his hands slide softly up to Naruto's face. Naruto opens his eyes and there is a kind of yearning that he has never seen before, not in anyone, written all over Sasuke's body, his eyes, the part of his lips.

He is not prepared for this; neither of them are, but they are ninja and they are strong and Naruto goes slow.

He thinks there might be blood, but Sasuke doesn't tell him to stop—and even though it hurts, he can relish the feel of the heat all around him, of Sasuke, and for the first time he isn't worried about Sasuke disappearing.

It seems like a long time before Naruto finishes, his hand slipping down to caress the same release from Sasuke, and the Uchiha gasps and moans and ultimately spills out the white-heat across Naruto's fingers.

Naruto looks down at him, into the endless black eyes. Looking into each other is like looking into the stars, and Naruto leans down and kisses him, his powerful arms pulling the smaller, lither form against his chest.

Sasuke smiles and closes his eyes.

The next morning he is gone.

* * *

And sometimes losing is the same as losing, too.

* * *

Naruto is in a panic. Sakura notices this but declines comment because, especially for _kunoichi_, the success of ninja lie in their powers of observation; she is worrying again, and it doubles when he hardly touches his ramen.

He is twitchy, he is anything but still—fingers druming, toes curling and uncurling and he keeps looking around as if expecting someone.

"Naruto," she says softly. "Who are you waiting for?"

"Eh? Oh, no one, Sakura-_chan_," and he smiles at her. She is starting to feel the odd one out, if he thinks so little of her that she'd fall for his masks. Anyone could see the insincerity of his smile, especially if they'd grown up with him; he isn't half so good at hiding himself anyway.

And as if he'd just noticed her, or something had occurred to him, he asks slowly, "What do think about—about Sasuke," and immediately her heart clenches because this is taboo for Naruto, even amongst the team—"coming back on his own? He left, so maybe he'd just return, too. When he was finished."

There is a clatter because her chopsticks are on the floor, and they weren't exactly one point three seconds ago.

"Geez," he says and picks them up for her. "It was just a thought."

She is silent for a long time, looking at her soup. When she finally looks at Naruto, who has taken to gazing around at the various stands and people again, her eyes are wet. Naruto doesn't notice this until she's about halfway through her next sentence, and only then because he has swiveled to look at her sharply. "But, Naruto, you know that he—that he isn't coming back." She had tried to say this carefully, but she can't because every word is a bombshell. "It—it was a nice thought," she adds, alarmed, because he is looking at her with something indescribable.

She puts her hand on his arm and he flinches.

"You—Naruto," and her voice drops. This isn't lunchtime conversation. "You saw his body, Naruto..."

He goes rigid.

"I'm sorry, I know it's hard to hear, but sometimes we just have to move on." Wetness slipping down her face and she doesn't even notice. "We just—Naruto? Naruto, you..." She shakes him gently, and her pulse is racing now, some kind of internal alarm at the expression that is on his face, or isn't—at something that has been dying from the very beginning. "_Naruto_!"

But he doesn't even hear her anymore.

* * *

End.

Okay, some notes: There was this Draco Harry fic that I read somewhere, and I can't find it, but it was amazing—if anyone can let me know or, better yet, link me. Basically it was Harry and Draco, but Draco was a ghost and as soon as Harry found out, he left. It was very good and very sad.

Anyway, yeah, Sasuke is dead in this whole fic. x.o Ugh. That makes me very sad. Naruto was hallucinating—generally fucked up in his head, etc. And I hope the sex scene wasn't too shitty.

Anyway, that is the end. I hope, if you didn't like it, then it was at the very least somewhat enjoyable. It is kinda messed up because I didn't decide to have Sasuke dead until the end, but he hardly said anything most of the way through, so it still make some sense. x.x Well, I don't have anything else to add to that.

Ciao.


	2. all of it now

The world has turned black-streaked-red and there's a terrible heaviness that pulls at his limbs like lead weights. The world spins, and when he moves his head the ground falls away from under him.

Naruto doesn't realize he's hit the dirt until he almost retches because _nothing is still_,and this place has two colors but they keep stealing into and out of each other.

But soon enough, everything goes dark.f

-

The missing-nins in a vicious way that bares his teeth and, off to the side, his slender friend watches silently from beneath folds of blood-colored clouds.

He says, in response to the barked question, "How the fuck should I know, the old bag never lets me – " only he can't finish because a thick fist cuts across his face and he loses another tooth.

The friend doesn't flinch, but his lip twists – barely visible beneath the huge collar, but it happens – and says something prudent.

Because he has the ears of a nine-tailed fox demon, especially now it's been years since the barriers decayed, he catches it. Shows his teeth right back.

"Yes," he says simply. "Everything you've heard is true."

The man with sharky blue skin gets pissed, but Naruto only has eyes for the black-haired man with the deep lines under his eyes – they're the eyes of a man who never sleeps.

"Naruto-kun,"the man says politely. "Do you think you can break through the chakra locks?"

He's only taken off-guard for an instant, because the only thing in Uchiha Itachi's voice is frank curiously.

"Might be," he says, moving his tongue around his bloody mouth. "You're _trying_ to get the bastard out, yeah? I expect he'll come, one way or another."

The sharky man looks shocked and a little worried, and maybe a little nauseous. But Itachi smiles faintly.

-

By the time he's finished, there aren't any trees left for a twenty-five mile radius,and all he has to show for a few short hours of admittedly difficult work is black blood on his paws – _hands_, I'm _back_ now – and an odd craving for sushi.

Except he's also missing both his eyes, and the hole in his stomach does not belong solely to his flesh.

He feels, fleetingly, that odd sensation of something spilling out – his guts or blood or breath, whatever he runs on these days – without any pain at all, and only the ebb and flow that keeps time with his heartbeat until the world walks away from him again. This time he's scooped up in empty, clean white that is infinite instead of oppressive; ambrosia that steals down his throat, cools the hole where the _kyuubi_ ripped free and takes him home.

-

He's in a garden when he wakes up.

The first question he asks receives a knock to the head.

"No," is the murmured reply. "Don't be an idiot."

Naruto pulls a face, then rakes his fingers through his hair. "So that dimension trick Kakashi pulls – "

"I have no idea. Something like that." Dark eyes rise and meet his own, oddly bare,oddly readable. "We're corporeal, and – well, sixteen again."

Naruto twists his lips. "I guess that's cool. Not like I did much after that." Sighs, digs his nails into the grass, all nervous energy.

"It's how I remember you," his dark companion says softly.

"Yeah," Naruto says. "Hey – do you know about," he stops, shakes his head because God, that wasn't real.

Sasuke, who has his arms thrown around his knees, lies back with a huff. A silence stretches between them, and all Naruto can think is, _I don't want to have made it up_, and even though he knows,intellectually, the last time he say his former teammate, and the circumstances – knows them _now_, at any rate – all he can recall are Sasuke's brooding eyes, sullen, and then backlit with passion. All he can see is what he drew up in his head.

"I killed your brother," he says. A gift, because he has nothing else to do with it.

"Had to drive my clan to extinction, didn't you."

Something old and familiar flares up in his chest, but Sasuke is smiling and it even reaches his eyes.

"I didn't –Orochimaru. I had to." It makes him sick to think about it;Sasuke, strangely, scoots a bit closer.

"I know." Leans companionably against him, and Naruto realizes that Sasuke doesn't have anything left to revenge, doesn't have hate to rule his heart. And they are both dead, or whatever it is happens – rebirth or other worlds or a waiting-room garden.

He exhales, braced for the images – Sasuke in a pool of blood, half a monster; Sasuke disemboweled, Sasuke all cut up with curse seals, Sasuke pale as a snake. Sasuke dead by his hand.

But the Sasuke that is not in his memory laughs at him. Puts his hand on his shoulder.

Says, "Well,let's get to it. Took you long enough."

Naruto raises his eyes, colored like and filled with the great sky pearled above them. Sasuke stands and, after a moment, offers a had. "Dead last."

_I killed you_, Naruto thinks as he takes it. _I killed you and I broke a promise and I had to kill Orochimaru. And then I fabricated your ghost. And then I killed your brother, because it was all I could do for you._

_Only he killed me, too._

The place is huge,full of flowering shrubbery and ripe berries and fresh fruit,fantastic animals come from dreams, though one tree in particular looks especially enticing.

_And you waited for me_.

"We can't go back the way we came," Sasuke tells him, looking at his face. "But we can stay here, at the dawn of time. Or we can start at the beginning."

"Why did you wait for me? Sasuke."

He makes a stab at enigma, but smiles crookedly. "Who else would come after me?"

He takes Naruto's hand, like that day at the Valley, and what was left after exhaustion peeled away all the hostility and left the painful, unbreakable feelings underneath.

Dead, and sorely relieved, and finally returned to their proper places – in relation to each other – they stand before the tree, and look at the sky, and take their time. They have all of it now.


End file.
